Dear Journal
by Vickysg1
Summary: She had a journal once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl.


Title: Dear Journal  
>Author: Vicky<br>Category: romance  
>Summary: She had a journal once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl.<br>Rating: PG-13  
>Disclaimer: I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money; I just do it for fun.<br>Claim: John/Elizabeth  
>Prompt: Journal Entry<br>Author's Note: This one is rather short, but I don't think it needed more. Written for writers30days in April.

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><p>She had a journal once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl. She remembered she would write long entries starting with the two words: "Dear Journal". She was sure that if she were to read them today, she would find it silly, but it mattered to her at the time, to be able to entrust her words, her thoughts, to her journal.<p>

She was an only child, and there were just some things she couldn't talk about with her parents, or an adult. So she wrote in her journal, and things became clearer, and she often got solutions to the problems she was facing.

But one day, it all stopped.

She remembered starting High School, and her friends from those days saying that keeping a journal was for young children. She had slowly stopped writing daily entries in her journal, up until the day she completely abandoned it. She knew that if she were to go to her childhood's house, she would find it safely hidden behind her bedside table; the same place she put it after the last time she wrote inside.

When she first arrived to Atlantis, though, she felt the need to start writing a journal again. She was seeing so many wonderful things with each passing day, that she wanted to make sure she would remember everything. Of course, this new journal would be even more private than her childhood one, as she was writing down classified information. But a journal wasn't something she had ever wanted to share anyway; it was for her eyes only.

She could have typed it in her computer, but it seemed too impersonal for her liking. When she was doing some last minute shopping on Earth, her eyes stopped on a beautiful, old-looking diary, and she bought it on a whim, being reminded of her childhood diary. A pen and a diary; those were her tools of choice when writing a private journal.

"What are you doing?" John whispered, dropping a kiss to her shoulder as he sat down behind her on the bed.

She should have guessed he would be curious. It was the first time she was writing in her journal with him in the room, but it wouldn't be the last.

Today, after months of hiding their relationship from the rest of the expedition, they moved in together in new quarters. It didn't mean they would flaunt their relationship for everyone to see, but they didn't want to hide anymore. There was still the matter of what the IOA would say and do once the news had reached Earth, but they wanted to be selfish for once. There had been too many close calls over the years, the last one being just days ago, for them to act like nothing was going on anymore.

"I'm writing in my journal. Now, you can mock all you want."

"Why would I do that?" he asked, moving her hair out of the way. "If it's your way to unwind, then I'm all for it."

She held back a moan as his lips made contact with the back of her neck. She still managed to hold onto her thoughts, and felt overwhelmed by the fact that he was not only not judging her habit, but also approving it. She had thought he would find it – and her – silly, and she couldn't have been more wrong.

As he moved to gain access to her neck, gently sucking and nipping the tender flesh, she let the pen drop from her hand. With her now free hand, she reached behind to hold onto his head, urging him to continue his ministrations. He obliged, moving again to sit beside her. The change of angle allowed her to seek his lips, and they shared a passionate kiss, leaving her with no doubt as to what would follow.

He pushed her back until she was lying down, and took the diary from her hands, putting it on the bedside table.

"Now, we wouldn't want to damage it."

"I wasn't finished," she whispered against his lips.

"You can do that later. _This_ is more important."

"Oh, really?" she teased him.

He growled at her, before proceeding to show her exactly how important it was.

He was right, though; writing in her journal could wait until a later time. And she wondered if she shouldn't start another, even more private, journal. She already had a title for her very first entry: _Where, when and how many times John and I christened our new quarters_.

After all, the reason behind writing a journal was that you wanted to remember _every single detail_.

Fin.


End file.
